His blue eyes sharpened and he ran his fingers back through his corn-colored hair. "Yeah," he said, "she did."
"Dud, it looks to me like those wagons were out here before we were, just waiting. It begins to look like somebody planned to have us stop here."
"You mean Mort? But what would he do that for? What could he gain? And even if he did, you've got to admit it's a good place."
"Yes, it is, but just the same I don't like it."
Her father was walking toward them with George Pagones and Cap Mulholland.
"What's this you young folks figurin' to do?" Cap said, grinning, "Hear we're havin' us a party."
Her answer was drowned by a sudden rattle of horses' hoofs, and she saw three men swing down the canyon trail. When they saw the group before the house, they reined in. One of them was Red, the man who had called on them the first day. Another was-her breath caught- Rock Bannon!
"Howdy!" Red said. He looked down at the men and then recognized Cap. "Seen anything of a young feller, 'bout twenty or so, ridin' a bay pony?"
"Why, no," Cap said. "Can't say as I have. What's the trouble?"
"He's Wes Freeman, who rides for us. He was huntin' strays over this way yesterday and he never came back. We figured maybe he was hurt somehow."
"No, we haven't seen him," Crockett said.
Dud Kitchen was grinning at Rock. "Shucks, man! We figured you had left the country. What you doin'?"
Bannon grinned. "I'm ridin' for Hardy Bishop," he said. "Went over there right after I left you folks."
"What made you think your man might have come over here?" Pagones asked. "Was he ridin' thisaway?"
"As a matter of fact," Red said, "he was ridin' back northeast of here. Pretty rough country, except for one canyon that's got some good grass in it."
The third man was short, thickset, and tough. "Hurry up, Red!" he said. "Why beat around the brush. Tell 'em!"
"All right," Red said. "I'll just do that, Bat!" He looked down at the little group before the house. "Fact of the matter is, Wes's horse come in about sundown yesterday, come in with blood on the saddle. We backtrailed the horse and we found Wes. We found him in the open valley we spoke of. He was dead. He'd been shot through the back and knocked off his horse. Then whoever shot him had followed him up and killed him with a hunting knife."
Zapata! Sharon's eyes widened, and she looked around to see Dud staring at her, gray faced. She had seen Zapata shoot!
In stunned silence the men stared up at the three riders. Rock broke the silence.
"You can see what this means?" he said sternly. "Wes was a mighty nice boy. I hadn't known him as long as these men, but he seemed to be a right fine feller. Now he's been murdered-drygulched. That's going to mean trouble."
"But why come to us?" Cap protested. "Sure, you don't believe we-"
"We don't believe-" Bat broke in harshly. "We know! We trailed three riders down out of those hills! Three from here! Wes was my ridin' partner. He was a durned good boy. I'm goin' to see the man who done that."
"Turn around."
The voice was cold and deadly. As one person, they turned. Pete Zapata, his guns low slung on his hips, was staring at the three riders. Flanking him were two men with shotguns, both of them from the teamsters' crowd. The other two were Lamport and Purcell of the wagon train.
Behind them, and a little to one side, was Morton Harper. He was wearing two guns.
"Get out of here!" Harper snapped harshly. "Don't come around here again, aimin' to make trouble. That's all you came for, and you know it! You've been looking for an excuse to start something so you could get us out of here, take our homes away from us. Now turn your horses and get out!"
His eyes riveted on Rock Bannon. "As for you, Bannon," he said sharply, "you're a traitor! You rode with us, and now you've gone over to them. I think you're the cause of all this trouble. If a man of yours is dead, I think it would be a good idea if these friends of yours backtrailed you. Now get moving, all of you!"
"This is a bad mistake, Harper," Rock said evenly. "I'm speaking of it before all these people." He nodded at the group in front of the house. "Bishop was inclined to let 'em stay, despite the fact that he was afraid they'd bring more after them. He listened to me and didn't run you off. Now you're asking for it."
"He listened to you!" Harper's voice was alive with contempt. "You? A trail runner?"
Red looked quickly at Rock and started to speak. Bannon silenced him with a gesture. "We'll ride, Harper, but we want the man-or men-who killed Wes. And we want him delivered to us by sundown tomorrow! If not, we'll come and get him."
Turning abruptly, they started away. Wheeling, Zapata grabbed a shotgun from one of the teamsters. "I'll fix him, the bluffer!"
"Hold it!" Pagones had a six-shooter and was staring across it at Zapata. "We don't shoot men in the back."
For an instant, they glared at each other. Then Harper interposed. "Put it down, Pete. Let them go."
He looked around. "There'll be a meeting at the saloon tonight. All of you be there."
When they had all gone, Tom Crockett shook his head sadly. "More trouble, and all because of that Bannon. I almost wish we'd let him die on the trail."
"It wasn't Bannon, Father," Sharon said. "Those men were right, I think. Mary and I saw Zapata yesterday. Two of the horses they trailed back here were ours. The other one was his. We were not fifty yards away from him when he fired that shot. We didn't see what he shot at, but it must have been that man."
Crockett's face was gray. "Are you sure, Sharon? Are you positive?"
"Yes, I am."
"Then we must give him up," he said sadly. "If he killed, he should suffer for it. Especially, if he killed that way." He got up and reached for his hat. "I must go and tell Morton. He'll want to know."
She put a hand on his arm. "Father, you mustn't. Don't say anything to him until you've told the others. Pagones, I mean, and Cap. I'm afraid."
"Afraid of what? Morton Harper is a fine man. When he knows what happened, he'll want something done himself."
Putting on his hat he started across the road for the cluster of buildings. Only for an instant did she hesitate. Then she swung around and ran to her horse, standing saddled and bridled, as she had planned to ride over to Mary's. Dud Kitchen would be there, and Pagones.
They were sitting at the table when she burst into the room.
"Please come!" she said when she had explained. "I'm afraid!"
Without a word, they got up and buckled on their guns. It was only a few hundred yards to the saloon, and they arrived just a few moments after Tom Crockett had walked up to Harper.
"Morton, my daughter and Mary Pagones saw Zapata fire that shot yesterday," Crockett was saying. "I think we should surrender him to Bishop. We don't want to have any part in any killings."
Harper's face hardened and he started to speak. Zapata, overhearing his name, stepped to the door, his hand on a gun. Then Harper's face softened a little, and he shrugged.
"I'm afraid they were mistaken," he said carelessly. "You're being needlessly excited. Probably Pete was up that way, for he rides around a good deal, the same as the girls do. But shoot a man in the back? He wouldn't do it."
"Oh, but he did," Dud Kitchen interrupted. "What the girls say is true."
"You call me a liar?" Harper turned on him, his face suddenly flushed with anger.
"No," Kitchen replied stiffly, his face paling. "I ain't callin' no man a liar, 'specially no man who come over the trail with me, but I know what I seen with my own eyes.
"Mary, she done told me about that, and I'll admit I figured there was something wrong with what she said, so I went up and backtrailed 'em. I didn't have no idea about no killin' then, but I trailed the girls, and then I trailed Pete.
"Pete Zapata stalked that cowhand for two miles before he got the shot he wanted. I went over every inch of his trail. He was fixin' to kill him. Then I trailed him down to the body. I seen where he wiped his knife on the
grass, and I seen some of them brown sort of cigarettes he smokes. Pete Zapata killed that man, sure as I'm alive!"
Zapata had walked, catfooted, to the edge of the wide plank porch in front of the saloon. He stood there now, staring at Dud.
"Trailed me, huh?" His hand swept down in a streaking movement before Dud could as much as move. His gun bellowed, and Dud Kitchen turned halfway around and dropped into the dust.
"Why, Mort!" Crockett's face was gray. "What does this mean? I-"
"You'd better all go back to your homes," Harper said sternly. "If Pete Zapata shot that man, and I don't admit for a minute that he did, he had a reason for it. As for this shooting here, Kitchen was wearing a gun, and he accused Zapata of murder."
Pagones' face was hard as stone. Two of the teamsters stood on the porch with shotguns. To have lifted a hand would have been to die.
"That settles it," Pagones said. "You can have your town! I'm leaving!"
"I reckon that goes for me, too," Crockett said sadly.
"I'm afraid you can't go," Harper said smoothly. There was a glint of triumph in his eyes. "My friend, John Kies, has lent you all money and supplies. Unless you can repay him what you owe, you'll have to stay until you have made a crop. California is a long ways away, and he couldn't be sure of collecting, there.
"Besides," he added, "Indians have rustled some of our stock. I have been meaning to tell you. Most of your oxen are gone." He shrugged. "But why worry? Stay here. This land is good, and these little difficulties will iron themselves out. There are always troubles when a new community begins. In a few years all this will be over and there will be children born here, a church built, and many homes."
Dud Kitchen was not dead. In the Pagones' house, Mary sat beside his bed. Satterfield had removed the bullet, and he sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee.
"He's got him a chance," Satterfield said. "A good chance. I'm no doctor, just picked up a mite when I was in that Mexican War, but I think he'll come through."
Pagones, his heavy head thrust forward on his thick neck, stared into the fire, somber, brooding. He turned and looked at Satterfield and Crockett.
"Well," he said, "it looks bad. Looks like we're in a fight whether we want it or not. Hardy Bishop hasn't bothered us none, even after all of Mort Harper's preaching about him. Now Zapata has killed one of his men."
"That Red feller," Satterfield muttered, half to himself, "he don't look like no man to have trouble with. Nor Bat, neither!"
"Where does Rock stand?" Pagones demanded. "That's what I'm wonderin'."
"Said he was ridin' for Bishop," Satterfield replied. "That's plain enough."
"If we'd listened to him, this wouldn't have happened," Mary said.
There was no reply to that. The three men stood quiet, listening to Dud Kitchen's heavy breathing. The tap at the door startled them, and they looked up to see Rock Bannon standing there.
Sharon drew in her breath, and she watched him wide-eyed as he stepped into the room and closed the door after him. Hat in hand, his eyes strayed from them to the wounded man lying in the bed.
How tall he was! And his shoulders had seemed to fill the door when he entered. He wore buckskin trousers tucked into hand-tooled star boots and a checked shirt with a buckskin jacket, Mexican fashion, over it. On his hips were two big dragoon Colts in tied-down holsters.
"He hurt bad?" he asked softly.
"Yes, but Jim Satterfield says he's got a chance," Mary said.
Rock Bannon turned to look at them. "Well," he said, "you saw me ride in here today. You know I'm riding for Bishop. From what's happened, I reckon you know that war's been declared. You've got to make up your mind whose side you are on. I talked Hardy Bishop into lettin' you stay against his better judgment. He was all for runnin' you off pronto, not because he had anything against you, but because he could see settlers gettin' a toehold in his domain.
"Now one of our boys has been killed. Even Bishop might have trouble holdin' the boys back after that. I've talked to 'em, and they want the guilty man. They don't care about nobody else. What happens now is up to you."
"Not necessarily," Pagones objected. "We'll call a vote on it."
"You know how that'll go," Bannon objected. "Ten of you came in here with Mort Harper. Then he brought in Kies and Zapata. Now he's got other men. Supposin' you three vote to turn over the guilty man. How many others will vote that way? Cap may think right, but Cap will vote pretty much as Harper says. So will Purcell and Lamport. Anyway you look at it, the vote is going to be to fight rather than turn Zapata over."
"No way to be sure of that," Satterfield objected. "Harper may decide to turn him over."
Bannon turned, his temper flaring. "Haven't you learned anything on this trip? Harper's using you. He brought you down here for his own reasons. He's out to steal Bishop's Valley from Hardy-that's what he wants. You're just a bunch of dupes!"
"You got any proof of that?" Crockett demanded.
"Only my eyes," Rock admitted, "but that's enough. He owns every one of you, lock, stock, and barrel. I heard about that matter of you being in debt to Kies. Don't you suppose he planned all that?"
The door opened and Mulholland came in; with him was Collins. Cap's face flushed when he saw Rock.
"You'd better light out. If Pete Zapata sees you, he'll kill you."
"That might not be so easy," Bannon said sharply. "All men don't die easy. Nor do they knuckle under to the first smooth talker who sells them a bill of goods."
Mulholland glared at him. "He promised us places, and we got 'em. Who's this Bishop to run us off? If it comes to war, then we'll fight."
"And die for Morton Harper? Do you think he'll let you keep what you have if he gets control of this valley? He'll run you out of here without a penny. You're his excuse, that's all. If the law ever comes into this, he can always say that Bishop used violence to stop free American citizens from settling on the land."
"That just what he's doin'," Cap said. "If he wants war he can have it!"
"Then I'd better go," Rock said. "I came here hopin' to make some peace talk. It looks like Zapata declared war for you. Now you've got to fight Mort Harper's war for him."
"You were one of us once," Pagones said. "You helped us on the trail. Why can't you help us now?"
Rock Bannon looked up. His eyes hesitated on Sharon's face and then swept on. "Because you're on the wrong side," he said simply.
Sharon looked up and her eyes flashed.
"But you were one of us," she protested, "You should be with us now. Don't you understand loyalty?"
"I was never one of you after Mort Harper came," he said. Sharon flushed under his gaze. "Whatever I might have been, Harper took away from me. I ain't a smooth-talkin' man. Guess I never rightly learned to say all I feel, but sometimes them that says little feels a sight more."
He put one hand on the latch. "As for loyalty, my first loyalty's to Hardy Bishop," he said.
"But how could that be?" Sharon protested.
"He's my father," Rock said quietly, and then he stepped quickly and silently out the door.
"His father!" Pagones stared after him. "Well, I'll be danged!"
"That don't cut any ice with me," Mulholland said. "Nor his talk. I got the place I want, and I aim to keep it. Harper says there ain't any way they can drive us off. He says we've got guns enough to hold our own, and this canyon ain't so easy to attack. I'm glad it's comin' to a showdown. We might as well get it over."
"All I want is to get to work," Collins said stubbornly. "I got a sight of it ahead, so if that Bishop aims to drive me off, I wish he'd come and get it over with."
"All that talk about him usin' us," Satterfield said uneasily. "That didn't make sense!"
"Of course not!" Cap said hotly. "Bannon was against everything we tried to do, right from the start. He just never had no use for Mort Harper, that was all."
"Maybe there is something to what he says," Sharon interposed.
Cap glanced a
round irritably. "Beggin' your pardon, Sharon. This is man's talk."
"I'm not so sure," she flashed. "We women came across the plains with you! If we fight, my father may die. That makes it important to me, and if you think I'm going to stand by and let my home be turned into a shambles, you're wrong."
Her father started to speak, but she stepped forward. "Bannon said Harper was using you. Well, maybe he is and maybe he isn't, but there are a few things I'd like you to think about, because I've been thinking about them.
"Did Mort Harper look for this townsite? No, he rode right to it, and to me that means he had planned it before! What affair was it of his which trail we took? Yet he persuaded us, and we came down here. Who got us to stay? It was him! I'll admit, I wanted to stay, and most of us did, but I'm wondering if he didn't count on that. And what about those wagons of supplies that turned up just at the right time?"
"Why, they just follered him on from the fort," Mulholland protested.
"Did they?" Sharon asked. "Go up and look at the trail. Mary and I looked at it, and no wagons have come over it since we did. Anyway, would he let those wagons come across that Indian country without more protection that they had? Those wagons were already here, waiting for us. They were back up in a canyon northeast of the trail."
"I don't believe that!" Collins said.
"Go look for yourselves then," Sharon said.
"You sound like you were against us," Cap said. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"
"I'm on the side of the wagon train people, and you know it," she said. "But a lot of this doesn't look too good to me. The first day we were here I rode down in the valley with Mort, and he said something that had me wondering, something about taking it for himself."
"Don't make sense," Cap said stubbornly. "Anyway, womenfolks don't know about things like this."
Sharon was angry. In spite of herself, and knowing her anger only made Cap more stubborn, she said:
"You didn't think there were any Indians, either. You took Mort's word for that. If it hadn't been for Bannon, we'd all have been killed."
She turned quickly and went out of the cabin. Swinging into the saddle, she started across toward her own cabin. It was dark, and she could see the light in the saloon and the lights in Collins's blacksmith shop, where his wife and little Davy would be waiting for him to return.
the Rider Of Ruby Hills (1986) Page 17
